My Lord, my God, my Saviour and my King,
I love You more than life or death, or wealth or anything,
And as I come with trembling near Your throne,
You look and see, a child You call Your own.

You do not shout because I dare draw near,
Your love is not intended to cause fear,
You smile and gently call me in,
And, oh so tenderly, You wash away my sin.

My Lord, I want to love You so,
Far more than I can understand or know;
And deep within my heart, there lies an aching hole,
That cannot yet be filled, until You own my soul.

For still within my mind, some giants roam,
Unwilling at my word to leave ‘their’ home,
They fight the Word from You, I try to claim,
Prevent me knowing, fully, the Power of Your Name.

But You have won the Promised Land for me,
And You can open eyes that cannot see,
You strengthen love that flickers like a flame,
You bind the reed that’s bruised, till it stands straight again.

Your love, will fill that empty space,
And You will teach me gently by Your grace;
To open up the rooms so filled with pain,
To learn to be a child and trust again.

For me, You say, You have so much in store,
Yet other than Your Love, I want no more,
But You have gifts You say You’re longing, – me to give,
I have to learn to live; – the way You’d have me live.

You want the very best for every son,
You planned it thus, before the world begun;
How do we step beyond, “I’m only me”,
And see the great potential, that You see?

For you can see the things we cannot find,
While satan steals our joy and keeps us blind,
And though the pain of living, sometimes seems too great,
You suffered man’s rejection, scorn, and hate!

And through it all, You held to God’s own plan,
Your death the only way He could save man,
So for mankind, You hung, upon that cruel tree,
Your Blood will break the chains of sin, and set our spirits free.

But I must claim the promise of Your Word,
In every part of life, let You be Lord,
Must learn to dare to trust you with my pain,
Believe I truly, can be whole again.

These things I cannot do, just by my will,
The wounds are deep, and yet they’re open still,
My only hope is that Your Spirit, will take o’er,
I have no strength to battle any more.

I trust that You will hold when I let go,
I hold to things You’ve told me I should know;
I give my spirit-man into Your care,
I pray that you will always keep it there.

©Ailsa Yates 27-28/11/2000